Forget Me Not
by C-Sorai
Summary: Lucky has gone missing. Luke and Nikolas are trying to avoid killing each other while attempting to find him. Question is, does Lucky Spencer want to be found?
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note: _

_Lucky Spencer was by far my favorite character on the show, and when Jonathan Jackson left, I was very disappointed. However, when the character was recast I tried hard to accept the new actor because I loved the character so much. It didn't work. With the recast, I found I no longer recognized the character that I had fallen in love with so many years ago. I wrote this story in order to fix what I saw as the woeful destruction of a beloved character, even if the fix was only in my head. _

_I stopped watching the show not long after the recast, and other than the occasional report from a friend of mine who has refused to give up on bad writing, I have no idea of what has been happening on the show in the past few years. So please forgive me if I have made some wrong assumptions about the current show._

_I know the show hasn't been very consistent with how old Lucky is but, according to my math, he was ten when he came to Port Charles in 1993 so he was 16 when Faison kidnapped him in 1999 and at the time of this story (2004), he is 21._

**Section One**

Rays of silver moonlight filtered dimly through the sheer curtain, making the white face of the clock on the wall glow eerily. Lucky Spencer watched from his bed as the second hand ticked steadily, pulling the long hand with it as it passed the 12 to read 3:00. He had woken up nearly two hours earlier in the middle of a very vivid dream and hadn't been able to get back to sleep. So, here he sat, three o'clock in the morning, trying to figure out why the dream had unsettled him so much.

By itself, the dream seemed very insignificant. In it he saw himself walking through the streets of some large city, and then meeting a man wearing a black suit. This is where he had woken up, just as the man began to talk. While the man's face seemed slightly familiar, Lucky couldn't place it, and he was beginning to suspect that the city was the source of his inability to get back to sleep, rather than the man.

The sound of a distant siren echoing quietly in the night filled Lucky with a sudden sense of urgency and, before his mind registered the fact that he'd moved, he was out the door, dressed and hurrying down the stairs.

* * *

Dawn found Lucky sitting on a bus staring out the window, trying to figure out how in the world he'd gotten there. A glance at the ticket in his hand revealed no clues, but a quick check in his wallet suggested he'd spent over a hundred dollars on the ticket. He hoped he'd have enough money to buy a ticket back from wherever he ended up, especially considering he didn't have anything in his wallet other than the cash. His license wasn't there, and neither was his bankcard. Lucky furrowed his brow in confusion, when had he done that?

"Are you all right?" a young woman in the seat next to him asked quietly. "You look a little confused."

Lucky blinked, trying to focus his eyes on her face before answering, "Just tired."

She nodded and turned her attention back to the book in her lap.

"What day is it?" Lucky asked her after a few seconds of silence.

She smiled indulgently and looked away from her book, "It's Thursday," she said. Then closed her book and turned in her seat to face him. "You know, I'm not surprised that you're tired. You caught the bus in New York on Monday and I haven't seen you close your eyes once the whole time. Do you get motion sickness or something?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, something like that." Lucky said, still trying to wrap his mind around the thought that he'd somehow lost four days.

"Well," she continued in response to his non answer, "Lucky for you we're almost to the end of the road. One more hour and we'll be free of this prison on wheels."

"Yeah, that'll be good," Lucky said with a small smile before returning to his intense scrutiny of the window.

The young woman looked at the back of his head for a second. Then, determining that he wasn't going to say anymore, she shrugged and turned back to her book once again.

TBC

P.S. For those of you who are leery of reading works in progress, don't worry, this story IS finished. I'm just waiting on a friend of mine to go through and help me weed out all the major errors before posting each section.


	2. Chapter 2

**Section Two**

Luke Spencer sighed, sitting down on the bed in his son's apartment. He hadn't seen the kid in nearly a week and, after two days of searching; he was starting to get worried. Lucky had, in recent years, developed an annoying habit of taking off whenever the mood hit without telling anybody, so it wasn't the fact that he couldn't find the kid that had him worried. The thing that had him sitting on his son's bed an hour before dawn was that he could find no evidence that the kid had taken anything with him.

Luke knew the driver's license and bankcard still sitting on the bed stand wasn't anything to worry about, Lucky knew how to accumulate fake ID's. However, he would never leave his backpack behind, or go on a prolonged trip without first making sure he had plenty of money and, according to the bank record, Lucky hadn't drawn a penny from his account except to pay rent for the last two weeks.

Pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, Luke wracked his brain trying to think of what he could have missed. Something felt very wrong about this and he was about to do something incredibly stupid, like call the police and report the kid missing. That might actually have been an option at this point if he thought there was a single cop in this town who could find their own car keys. No, he was going to have to find Lucky himself. If only he had a place to start.

* * *

"Sir? Sir, can you hear me?"

Lucky struggled to open his eyes, trying to identify the source of the distant voice.

"If you can hear me I want you to squeeze my hand OK?" He heard the voice again, a little closer this time, and attempted to contract his hand around the warmth he now could identify as a hand.

"That's good, very good. Now, I'm going to go get the doctor to let him know you're awake. Don't drift on me, I'll be right back."

Lucky nodded slightly, opening his eyes just in time to see the young woman's back as she left the room. Feeling like he was moving through water, Lucky looked around, trying to take stock of his situation. He was in a hospital room, and there was an IV attached to his hand. When he brought his hand up to his head he felt a bandage taped to his forehead, and an incredible pain emanating from his middle surged to life at the movement. What had happened?

An older man who could only be the doctor walked into the room before the thought was complete.

"Hello young man," the doctor said smiling gently. "I'm Dr. Jacobson, how are you feeling this morning?"

Lucky squinted, trying to focus more clearly, "What happened?" he asked, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears.

"The bus you were on was hit by a semi just as it got into town." The doctor said looking closely at Lucky.

Lucky nodded, he remembered the bus.

That seemed to be enough of a response for the doctor and he continued speaking, "You were very lucky, young man. You were unconscious and bleeding when the paramedics finally pulled you out. Don't worry about the head, though, it seems to have been just a nasty bump. You did have some internal bleeding, though and we had to remove your spleen."

The doctor continued speaking, but Lucky didn't hear him, still trying to process that last piece of information. Remove his spleen? That wasn't possible.

"Young man? Young man?"

Lucky shook his head and looked at the doctor who was studying him with some concern.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?" Lucky asked not liking the look on the doctor's face.

"I asked you what you're name is. You've been unconscious since the accident and we couldn't find anything to identify you on the bus."

"Lucky Spencer," Lucky answered the doctor before fully considering the question. Technically his name was Lucas, not Lucky, but the thought wouldn't occur to him until later.

"Lucky Spencer?" the doctor asked, and at Lucky's nod he wrote something down on the clipboard in his hand. "Well Mr. Spencer," the doctor continued, "I want to keep you here for a few days OK? The incision on your abdomen will need some time to heal and you seem to be disoriented, I'm a little worried that the blow to your head may have caused more damage than I originally thought. Do you need us to contact someone and let them know you're here?" The doctor waited until Lucky shook his head no, and then continued, "There's a phone by the bed there if you change your mind, and the button there will call a nurse to you OK? I'll be back to check on you again in a few hours."

Lucky watched the doctor leave and lay back down, still trying to assess his situation.

"He seems a little disoriented." He heard Doctor Jacobson say to the nurse outside the room. "It might be the concussion, but I still want a close eye kept on his mental state." Lucky didn't hear the nurse's answer, but could guess as to what it had been.

Looking around the sterile room Lucky considered the doctor's comments about his spleen being removed. He knew that couldn't be possible. When he was ten he'd been shot in the stomach and during the surgery to remove the bullet, the doctors at General Hospital had removed his spleen. He remembered it clearly because it had scared him so much to find he couldn't walk at first and Tony Jones had explained the surgery to him.

Lucky closed his eyes, deciding he might have to stay here a little longer than necessary to investigate. If the doctors and nurses thought he was too weak to move, it would be much easier to do some 'investigating' while no one was around.

* * *

Luke leaned back in his chair, staring at the phone intensely, willing it to ring. It was too soon for anything to be coming in, but there was nothing left to do and waiting had never been his strong suite. A knock on the door made Luke looked up, wondering who it could possibly be.

"Mr. Spencer?" a voice said from behind the door as the knocking came again.

Luke waited a moment, slightly surprised when he recognized the voice, "Come in, Cassadine."

Nikolas walked through the door hesitantly. Going into a room alone with Luke Spencer had always made him feel a little like he was walking into the proverbial lion's den.

"I heard that you were looking for me." Nikolas said, coming into the room fully, while being sure to leave the door open behind him.

Luke leaned back in his chair and regarded the young man in front of him a moment before picking up a cigar. "And I heard," Luke paused to cut the end of his cigar, "that you were in a meeting and wouldn't be available until tomorrow."

"We finished early."

"Ah, I see," Luke said, picking up his lighter and lighting his cigar.

Nikolas waited a few long moments before realizing Luke wasn't going to continue. "Well, obviously whatever it was has resolved itself. So, if you don't mind, I'll be getting home."

Luke smiled to himself at the slight irritation he heard in the kid's voice and waited until he was nearly out the door before speaking up. "When was the last time you saw Lucky?"

Nikolas stopped, halfway out the door, then turned back to face Luke, a confused and slightly worried look on his face. "About a week ago; we had dinner. Why?"

Luke exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke that billowed out to curl around the room, "As near as I can tell," Luke said putting his cigar in between his teeth, "the last time anyone saw him was Sunday night."

Nikolas paused, considering his words carefully. "He could have just decided to leave. He does that occasionally." Even as he said it he knew there was something else bothering Luke. He just wasn't the kind of parent that worried unnecessarily.

Luke shook his head and put his cigar, still lit, on a tray on his desk, "Not without taking anything with him."

Nikolas blinked; Luke was actually going to give him information? That just never happened. "He didn't take anything?" Nikolas asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. "You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure Cassadine. Do you think I'm stupid?"

"No, that's not what I said." Nikolas said quickly. He would rather cut out his own tongue than apologize to Luke Spencer, and this was as close as he could make himself come. "It's just . . . I'm just trying to figure out what's going on, that's all."

Luke considered the young man, picking up his cigar once again. He really didn't like this kid, but the Cassadine money would certainly help speed things up a bit in finding information. Besides, Lucky had grown close to his 'brother'.

"OK," Luke said slowly, making his decision, "I'll try and make this simple, so you can follow."

Nikolas sighed at the insult, but sat down in the chair across from Luke, waiting for him to start.

TBC . . .

P.S. For those of you who are leery of reading works in progress, don't worry, this story IS finished. I'm just waiting on a friend of mine to go through and help me weed out all the major errors before posting each section.


	3. Chapter 3

**Section Three**

"How are we doing tonight Mr. Spencer?"

Lucky barley managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the too perky nurse. He was in a hospital; how did she think he felt?

"I hope I'm doing well enough to go home tomorrow." Lucky answered, exercising his little used tact muscle with some effort.

The nurse picked up the chart that was hanging at the foot of his bed and glanced through it briefly.

"I talked to the doctor as he was getting off shift a few minutes ago. He says your stitches are healing nicely and seems to think that you might be strong enough to go home tomorrow, if you have someone there who can help you out."

Lucky nodded and waited patiently while she measured his pulse and blood pressure.

"I'm on until four a.m., so if you need anything just push that button right there." She said, making her notations in his chart. "I'll see you again in a couple of hours."

Lucky did roll his eyes this time as she left the room and turned off the light. She had been his nurse for three nights in a row now and she always said the same thing as she left. He had to admit, as much as the day nurse annoyed him, at least she didn't sound scripted.

In the four days he had been here, he'd managed to learn nearly all the hospital procedure and schedule; including the fact that after the ten p.m. round the nurses wouldn't leave their station at the front of the hospital until time for the next round at midnight. He had two hours to go do some snooping before he had to be back in the bed.

Slipping out of his bed, Lucky put on the doctor's smock he's smuggled into the room the night before. Then waited just a moment to make sure no one would see him before stealing silently out of the room.

* * *

Holding his aching side, Lucky slipped, unnoticed into the empty file room. This is where all of the Doctors notes, x-rays, and full patients' files were kept. It took him only a few minutes to locate his file and, putting his x-rays aside for a moment he sat down to read.

_Patient came in with what looks to be a mild concussion and abdominal bleeding. Emergency surgery was performed shortly after arrival. The spleen had been ruptured and was removed. _

Lucky skimmed the rest of the doctor's handwritten notes until he found the most recent entry. _Patient has been conscious and coherent for four days, but still hasn't given us his full name or the names of anyone he knows. Continued disorientation and frequent mood swings. Partial amnesia suspected. Have tried contacting other hospitals in the state to see if they can give more information on the patient but have been unsuccessful._

Lucky put the file down and stared at a spot on the floor, deep in thought. It looked like the doctors here really had no idea who he was and, since they were looking for a medical file in the wrong state, they weren't likely to figure it out any time soon. Lucky turned to the computer at a sudden thought. His doctor might not know where to find his records but he did. If he could just figure out Dr. Jacobson's password, he could request his own records be faxed here from General Hospital.

* * *

A tall man stood stiffly looking out at the lights of the city, his back to the man standing by the door.

"You're certain he's here?"

The man by the door nodded, although his boss couldn't see him.

"He's in the County Hospital. Dr. Jacobson seems to think he's suffering from some sort of head wound or something."

The tall man nodded, not turning away from the window, "Watch him, but don't interfere. I want this to proceed naturally."

Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, the man at the door nodded at his boss's back and left the room with a quiet, "Yes sir."

* * *

"Dr. Oliverson, you're needed in the ICU, Dr. Oliverson to ICU please."

Lucky started at the sound of the intercom coming through the room. It was ten to midnight and he was watching the printer slowly print his records from General Hospital. He'd been fortunate that it was quiet at the hospital, so when he requested the file with an 'urgent' attached to it the staff had sent it back to him almost immediately.

"Finally," Lucky mumbled under his breath as the file finished printing. Putting the paper under his arm Lucky made sure he'd deleted the file and erased all record of his activity on the computer. Then he pulled the paper out of his file for County and put the empty folder back where he'd found it. With any luck he would be long gone before anyone noticed it was missing.

* * *

Luke Spencer sat on the docks staring out at the water. He had hoped bringing Nikolas into this would speed things up a bit in looking for Lucky, but so far, it hadn't worked. Where could the kid be?

"Luke?"

Luke turned at the sound of a familiar voice. Sonny Corinthos was standing just behind him, alone and looking slightly confused.

"Hey Sonny," Luke said, turning back to the water, "Where's Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber?"

Sonny blinked, "Who?"

Luke gestured lazily behind him; "You're body guards, Sonny. It's the middle of the night and here you are, out on the docks alone, when there must be somebody, somewhere who wants you dead."

Sonny raised his eyebrows, "You've been known to make an enemy or two yourself, Luke."

Sonny was facing Luke's back so he missed the clouded look that crossed the older man's face. "Ah," Luke said, sounding like he didn't have a care in the world. "But I have the advantage of knowing that most of my dangerous enemies are dead. And I know who and where the live ones are." Luke paused and turned around to look Sonny in the eye. "You, on the other hand; seem to love to tempt fate."

Sonny looked out over the water; "I'm on my way in." Then turned back to face Luke's gaze. "Is there something wrong, Luke? You seem a bit distracted."

Luke narrowed his eyes, "Go home, Corinthos, what goes on here is no longer your concern."

Sonny stepped back, anger flashing briefly in his eyes. "We were friends once, Luke." Sonny said, his voice carefully controlled.

Luke stood up and looked down at Sonny. "Yes, we were," he said, and seemed to be about to say something more when his cell phone rang.

"Tell me you have the information I want." Luke said into the receiver, instantly forgetting that Sonny was still there.

"Luke," Nikolas said on the other end of the phone, "I just got a report from General Hospital. A Dr. Jacobson sent an urgent request for Lucky's medical records less than an hour ago."

"Do you know where this doctor is?"

"Of course, the Cassadine jet is ready to leave if you're coming."

"I'm on my way." Luke said hanging up and running to his car. Leaving Sonny behind, wondering what the hell had just happened.

* * *

"How're we doing tonight Mr. Spencer?" Lucky heard the nurse ask as she turned on the light. Lucky had just stashed the files in the closet with his clothes and barely made it back in the bed before the nurse came in.

Pretending the sudden bright light was hurting his eyes Lucky rolled over, ignoring the nurse as she measured his blood pressure and temperature.

"Mr. Spencer? Are you feeling hot?" the nurse said, frowning down at her readings.

Lucky nodded weakly, thinking that his run back to the room must have elevated his temperature and pulse. It certainly felt like his heart was pounding a mile a minute.

"I'm going to have to take a blood sample. There's a possibility your stitches have become infected. In the mean time I'm going to give you something to lower the fever OK?"

Lucky nodded again, knowing that the only thing she could give him without a doctor's notice was aspirin or something similar. The nurse was gone for just a few minutes before coming back and giving him some pills to swallow. Lucky put the pills in his mouth and drank most of the water she had given him.

"It'll take a few hours for the blood test to come in. So you get some sleep, I'll talk to Dr. Jacobson in the morning."

Lucky held back the comment that came to mind at those words. Sleep? How was anyone supposed to get any sleep in a hospital with the nurses coming in every two hours to poke and prod?

Once the nurse was out of the room Lucky spit the pills out of his mouth, quickly located his clothes, dressed and put the files in his jacket. Then, watching carefully for anyone that didn't look like a patient, he slipped quietly down the hall to the stairs. He had what he'd come for. There was no reason to stay in the hospital any longer.

TBC . . .

P.S. For those of you who are leery of reading works in progress, don't worry, this story IS finished. I'm just waiting on a friend of mine to go through and help me weed out all the major errors before posting each section.


	4. Chapter 4

**Section Four**

A siren in the distance echoed eerily in the night air. Lucky pulled his jacket around his shoulders a little tighter, looking around the dark alley cautiously. He wasn't certain why he'd come here. The pain in his side had increased quickly after leaving the hospital, and he'd come here instinctually, a part of him seeming to be very familiar with the area. Now that the adrenaline was fading and he began to think a little more clearly, the area just seemed creepy and unsanitary.

A streetlight in the distance illuminated the parking lot of what appeared to be a library and Lucky hurried his way toward it, anxious to get out of the alley. Eyeing the library door, he wondered if the decidedly run down building had a computer in it. Most libraries did and it would make what he was planning on doing much easier. No one really expected people to break into libraries.

Silently slipping around to a less illuminated area of the parking lot, Lucky located a ledge and an open window that would allow him access into the building. It took him just a few minutes to pull himself on the ledge and a couple more before he managed to squeeze into the deceptively small window. Once his shoulders were through the hard part was done, but upon closer inspection, a new problem asserted itself. There was a ten foot drop from the window to the floor. Making his decision quickly, Lucky squeezed the rest of the way into the building, and lowered himself as close to the floor as possible before letting go of the window ledge.

Landing in a crouch to minimize the impact on his knees Lucky exhaled in pain. He was certain he'd pulled a few stitches doing that. Holding his side, Lucky scanned the room, noting with relief the computer at the far end. He said a silent 'thank you' to whoever might have granted his wish and hurried to turn the ancient thing on.

Lucky felt a small prick of panic that the computer wasn't connected to the internet, as he waited for the thing to boot up, only allowing the tension to ease as he clicked on the icon and was granted access. Pulling up a rolling chair from nearby, Lucky sat down in front of the computer and began some intensive hacking.

* * *

Dr. Malus looked at his most trusted employee with annoyance.

"What do you mean, he's disappeared?" Malus asked his voice deceptively quiet.

Colins winced slightly, recognizing the tone of his boss's voice. "I'm sorry sir, but it appears the young man left the hospital prematurely."

"You were told to anticipate that."

"Yes sir, of course." Colins answered Malus's unspoken question, "But the nurse had ordered some blood tests and asked for the doctor to contact her about him. She seemed to think the young man's condition had deteriorated. Our operative didn't suspect he might leave then." Colins unconsciously crept closer to the door as he gave his explanation to Dr. Malus, aware that the man would most likely take the explanation as a cop out.

Malus, for his part, wasn't as upset as he was leading his employee to believe. Angered that the operative had been so stupid as to let the boy out of his sight, certainly, but he was also a little impressed that the kid had managed such an elegant exit.

"Who was the operative?" Malus asked quietly.

Colins swallowed in relief, knowing where this was leading, "Williams, sir."

"Tell him to come in, and then close the door behind you." Malus said, not even considering the possibility that Colins didn't have the man waiting outside.

"Of course sir," Colins said, leaving the room a little faster than necessary.

Williams entered the room with a confident gait, barely noticing when the door closed and locked behind him. Dr. Malus looked over the man before him, barely hiding his disgust when he noticed the dark, slightly greasy hair.

"Not including tonight, how many times have you lost someone you were following for me Williams?" Malus said in a conversational tone, sitting at his desk opening a drawer on his left.

"Only once, sir," Williams answered with confidence, he was good at what he did, and he wasn't too worried about loosing track of some kid that would most likely be found dead or arrested in the morning.

"This is twice then," Dr. Malus stated, manipulating something in the drawer before picking up something else. "I'm afraid, Mr. Williams," Malus said, his voice still very conversational, "that is two, too many times in this business."

Williams barley had time to register the fact that Malus had a gun in his hand before the bullet penetrated his skull, killing him instantly. Casually unscrewing the silencer from the end of his gun Malus called for Colins, who opened the door cautiously.

"Clean up the mess," Malus said, gesturing to the dead man on the floor, "then locate the boy and make sure the operative you put on him is better than the last one."

"Yes sir," Colins said, gesturing for the clean up crew in the hallway to come in and remove the body.

"Be sure to disinfect the floor and the hallway, who knows when the last time was that slob took a bath." Malus said, placing the gun back in the drawer and picking up a pen before giving his attention to the paper work on his desk.

* * *

Dr. Jacobson stood in front of Nikolas and Luke, looking slightly harried.

"I'm sure the nurse has already told you everything there is to know," he said, deliberately looking at Nikolas, by far the less dangerous looking of the two, if not less intimidating. "And I did not request _any_ medical records from out of state. I'm sorry gentlemen, but I have a missing patient and more questions than answers."

Nikolas glared at Luke, who looked back at him with equal annoyance, "Dr. Jacobson," Nikolas started, his calm tone in stark contrast to Luke's previous outburst, "I understand that you're frustrated, and I apologize for our previous attitude. But my brother has been missing for more than a week and we're very worried about him." Nikolas pulled out a card and handed it to the Doctor. "If you think of anything that could help us, call that number. We appreciate your help." With that Nikolas turned toward the elevator, ignoring Luke, who continued to glare at the Doctor's retreating back.

"There's nothing else to be learned here, Luke" Nikolas said, pushing the button and waiting for the elevator to respond.

"Do you really believe that?" Luke asked after a minute, leaning casually on the wall next to Nikolas.

Nikolas rolled his eyes, begging for patience before responding. "He's a good Doctor with a good reputation," Nikolas paused and looked Luke in the eye before continuing, "He has nothing to hide."

"You're far too trusting boy." Luke said, "However," Luke paused to pull out a cigar, "Assuming you're right and the 'good' Doctor has nothing to hide. Tell me, who requested Lucky's medical records and why? Has the thought occurred to you that somebody, in this rundown medical center might have seen something that could be of interest?"

"Like what?" Nikolas asked, extreme irritation finally showing in his voice.

"Well now," Luke said, opening the wrapper on his cigar and putting the end in his mouth, "You never know, until you ask."

"Fine, oh omnipotent one," Nikolas said finally losing all patience, "You go ask your asinine questions. I'm heading back to the jet to see if any of the _professional_ detectives I've hired have found anything. If you manage to pull your head out of your ass, you know my number." The elevator chose that moment to appear, and Nikolas got on it, punching the button a little too hard, leaving Luke alone in the reception area. Luke laughed quietly, "Temper, temper," he said shaking his head. Turning away from the elevator doors Luke sauntered down the hallway, feeling more than a little satisfied that he'd incited the reaction.

* * *

Dr. Malus waited until he heard the last of the cleaning crew leave the room and the door click shut behind them before putting the pen down and opening the drawer to his left once again. Picking up a lock of light brown hair in the drawer next to the perfectly centered gun he turned to look out the window.

"It won't be long now, Lucky," he said softly, caressing the lock of hair without thinking, "It won't be long now."

The view of the city sparkling with life far below him reminded him of the first time he'd seen Lucky Spencer over ten years before. The boy was eight or nine at the time and Malus was celebrating his new doctor status when he saw the young boy on the street, alone and moving very deliberately. At first, Malus had thought he must be a thief; young boys simply didn't travel alone in the middle of the night in the city. But on closer inspection Malus noted that he was well groomed and warmly dressed, definitely not your typical street urchin. Intrigued Malus had followed the boy for a few blocks, before Lucky had noticed him, and very deliberately lost his trail.

Intrigued _and_ impressed Malus had spent the next two weeks searching for the child. The search had been surprisingly difficult and would have possibly been unfruitful if it hadn't been for the boy's mother. Two cities away from where he'd first encountered the boy, he heard a woman's excited yell and turned to see Lucky run into his mother's arms. Determined not to loose the boy again Malus followed them to the hotel where he found they were using the name Harrison. It wasn't until later he found out that wasn't their real name and he cursed himself for his stupidity, knowing he should have seen that coming.

They had proved to be a difficult family to track; constantly on the move and changing names. Malus lost them a few times, once for nearly a year, during which he spent a considerable amount of his inheritance to build a computer business. The business allowed him to earn the money he needed to track the boy without having to remain stationary to oversee his fortune. Malus had been very careful not to let Lucky see him again for fear that the boy would run like he had the last time, and when the family settled in Port Charles he learned their real names and history. The more he learned, the more interested he became.

Thrilled at the prospect of observing Lucky more closely Malus had installed the latest in video technology all over town. Despite the fact that he'd never been able to install a camera in the Spencer home, they were far too paranoid to allow any kind of casual access; Dr. Malus was able to watch most of Lucky's childhood through his electronic spy network He was not disappointed, Lucky turned out to be intelligent, charming, and ever so slightly rebellious. The boy was a joy to watch and Malus had begun to prepare for a personal meeting when Faison kidnapped him.

A quiet knock on the door, brought Dr. Malus out of his reverie. "Yes?" he said, allowing his impatience to show in his voice.

"Sir?" Colins' hesitant voice came through, as the blond head peaked into the room. "We have located the boy, sir. He appears to be heading to the house."

Malus nodded pleased with the news, "Let him into the house, and make sure he's greeted properly, but don't let him leave."

"Yes sir," Colins said respectfully backing out and closing the door quietly.

Malus leaned back in the chair, still caressing the lock of Lucky's hair, "Not long at all."

* * *

Lucky rubbed his eyes, more tired than he'd expected. After four days in the hospital one would think he'd be more rested. Sighing, Lucky glanced out the window of the bus, he'd found precious little information on the computer in the library and had decided to leave when the phone at the library had rang. He knew he'd probably triggered an alarm somewhere, and the first thing security centers did before dispatching the cops was call to see if the person who'd triggered the alarm had a legitimate reason for being there. The phone ringing at four o'clock in the morning had definitely been his cue to go. So here he was, on a bus heading to some random address he'd found on the computer.

When the bus came within a few blocks of his destination, Lucky rang the bell and got off at the corner. He paused briefly and put his hand to his side experimentally. Satisfied that he wasn't bleeding again, he walked up the hill toward the large, gated house at the end of the block. The security at the gate was incredible, and for a moment Lucky considered heading back. This place was ten times worse than the Quartermaine's; there was no way he could get in undetected.

"State your name and the purpose of your visit." A voice from the box to Lucky's left startled him.

Looking up into the camera that was directed at him Lucky answered truthfully. "I'm Lucky Spencer, and I'm here to ask some questions."

There was a slight pause and Lucky worried they were going to ask him _who_ he was there to see. A buzzing noise followed by "Proceed," from the disembodied voice alleviated his fears, and he walked through the now unlocked gate.

Walking down the ridiculously long driveway Lucky had time to consider his actions. Why was he here? He'd found an impossible answer to his questions on that computer and he was here to see if it was true, that's why he was here. The question was did he really want to know if it was true? Pausing at the doorway with his hand on the knocker, Lucky took a deep breath. This was his last chance; he could go back through the gate and pretend this had never happened or he could knock on the door and be told one of two things. Steeling himself, Lucky rapped the knocker soundly against the wooden door and waited for an answer.

Lucky thought he'd prepared himself for what would be on the other side of that door, but knowing what he was going to see and actually seeing it were two entirely different things. When the door opened, Lucky was at a complete loss for words, looking up at him from inside the house was a young man with his face.

"Hello, Mr. Spencer," his double said quietly, "we've been expecting you."

* * *

TBC . . .

Authors note: I know Malus is a little over the top. I was trying to create a 'soap villain' and he's what I came up with, I hope he's not too distracting.


	5. Chapter 5

**Section Five**

Lucky sat down on the couch watching his double pour coffee into a couple of cups. It had taken him a few minutes to notice the young man was in a wheelchair; the fact becoming a surprising comfort to the agitated Lucky. His double hadn't as of yet revealed his name and Lucky hadn't asked; not sure if he wanted to know.

"So," his double said, picking up a cup and leaning back in his wheelchair, "perhaps you can tell me what brought you here."

Lucky put his cup down on the coffee table separating them and pulled out two sets of files, pushing them toward his companion.

"Look at those files," Lucky said and waited until his companion had picked them up and began thumbing through them before continuing. "Do you recognize those?"

"They're medical files."

Lucky nodded, "Right, now the one in your hand, those are of a boy who had some very distinctive medical procedures done. When he was ten he was shot in the stomach and among other things, he had his spleen removed. Then when he was twelve he received an injury that forced the doctors to cut a small hole in his skull to relieve the pressure. These are both things that are very distinctive, and they should always show up in later check ups especially if the new doctor didn't have the patient's previous medical records and was trying to identify the patient. Am I right?" Lucky waited until his double nodded slowly. This next part was the hard part, the part he didn't want to accept, the part he was sure would make him sound absolutely crazy if he was wrong. He watched the young man in the wheelchair, making sure all of the information was there so he would sound less stupid if he was wrong. His double was staring hard at the file in his hand, still studying the same page.

Lucky took a deep breath and continued. "Now the next set." Lucky waited, watching as his companion distractedly picked up the next set of papers, deliberately avoiding eye contact. "Those are of a young man who was found in a wrecked bus. They had to do emergency surgery and removed his spleen, and since he was unidentified, they ran a variety of tests attempting to find something that would lead to his identity. They didn't find anything, no identifying scars, and other than a healed break to the forearm that showed up in the x-ray they found nothing of interest." Lucky hesitated, trying to decide how to finish this. "What . . . What would you conclude about those two sets of files?" he asked, deliberately putting off his conclusion.

The young man in the wheelchair was silent for a long time, before finally answering, "They are two different people," he whispered.

At these words, Lucky finally snapped, and he stood up in a fit of emotion. "Except they're not!" he practically yelled. "Those are both supposed to be my files. Now I'm no expert, but I know that spleens don't grow back and I know that drilling a hole in someone's head is going to leave a distinctive mark on an x-ray!" Lucky began to pace; his tone getting louder and more emotional the longer he talked. "At first I thought it was some sort of a trick, you know? I thought someone; Helena Cassadine maybe, was messing with my head. So I hacked into the hospital records, I looked around to see if anyone had been bribed. I looked and looked and all I found was a decent and legitimate set of nurses and doctors. I . . . I had to consider that it was right. That it was really right. So I, I checked up on my own social security number, and guess what I found!" Lucky was suddenly in front of his double, leaning on the arms of his wheelchair, "I found somebody else using my name and social security number! Somebody who went to school and received a Bachelors degree in computer science, somebody who listed this address as their home address!"

Lucky stopped, breathing hard after his outburst and looked at the face so close to his own. His double had put the files down and was now staring at his hands in his lap. Suddenly tired, Lucky plopped back down onto the couch, regarding the young man before him. "I came here to ask a question. And I've been hoping that I would be proven wrong on this. Do you know," he said in a quiet voice, letting go of his previous outburst. "Do you know what I've decided is going on here?"

The young man in the wheelchair continued his study of his hands, but finally shook his head 'no'.

"I'm not," Lucky swallowed, trying hard to get the words past his throat, "I'm not Lucky Spencer am I?" The young man in the wheelchair sighed and looked up at him with tears in his eyes.

"No, you're not . . . I'm sorry."

"Tell me."

The young man in the wheelchair sighed and nodded before continuing. "A few months after he was kidnapped by Faison the real Lucky Spencer was severely injured. Faison's doctors assured him that the boy wouldn't survive the week. Now, Faison had been paid a lot of money to kidnap and brainwash Lucky. So, he decided the most prudent thing to would be to find a replacement."

"Me."

"Yes, you were a street urchin, in this very city, with about the right bone structure, right eye color, and right hair color. He gave you extensive plastic surgery to make you look like the real Lucky. Then he erased your memory and replaced them with what he thought Lucky's memories should have been. That actually made the process of brainwashing you into what Helena wanted even easier." The young man in the wheelchair paused and took a sip of coffee before continuing. "Your real name is Jeremy Stevens. I compiled a file on you." At these words he wheeled his chair over to the desk and opened a drawer pulling out a file. Jeremy stood up to take it from him.

"Nobody ever looked for Jeremy?"

"No, you ran away when you were eight. That was part of the reason Faison chose you."

Jeremy sat down and began to read the short file, but looked up when a sudden thought occurred to him. "So, where's the real Lucky Spencer?" he asked.

"You've been talking to him for the last half an hour young man." A voice from the hall brought Jeremy's attention away from the young man in front of him. A tall man wearing an immaculate gray suite, with a neatly trimmed beard and short black hair stood in the hallway. He looked very ordinary, regal even, but something about the man gave Jeremy the creeps. "I would have thought that you had that figured that out by now Mr. Stevens. You did, after all, come here expecting this didn't you?"

Jeremy looked back and forth from the man in the hallway to the young man in the wheelchair. The man was right; he'd been expecting to learn that ever since _Lucky_ had answered the door.

"I am Dr. Damien Malus," the man said, coming to sit in a high-backed armchair next to him. "You really should be thanking me you know. I'm the one who decided it was time to let you in on reality."

Jeremy looked over at Lucky who had gone very still the moment Malus had come into the room.

"What's going on?" Jeremy asked standing up and instinctively looking for a way out of the room.

"Sit down young man, and I shall tell you all about it." Malus said pleasantly, pouring himself a cup of coffee, "You came here for answers. I'm here to give them to you."

* * *

Luke sighed and looked up at the blue sky. He'd poked around that hospital all night long, and while he'd found a few skeletons in the hospital's collective closet, he'd found nothing that would help him figure out what was going on with his son. The one thing he'd decided was that Lucky had requested his own medical records from GH. What possible reason could he have for that? This whole thing was getting more and more confusing the more he learned. Now, thanks to a missing medical file, he didn't even know what kind of injuries his son had sustained to put him in the hospital in the first place. That idiot Dr. Jacobson had obviously mixed Lucky up with a different patient because he insisted that Lucky's spleen had been removed. Resisting the urge to strangle the nearest person, Luke punched at the wall.

The sound of his cell phone ringing brought Luke up short, "What!" he yelled into the phone, still in the middle of his mental tirade.

"Find anything on your end?" Nikolas's voice came through the line, sounding just a little too smug.

Luke gritted his teeth needing to sound calm to the Cassadine spawn. "Nothing that seems very promising." He said, almost succeeding in his goal, "What about you? Your _professionals_ find anything interesting?"

Nikolas hesitated, "Maybe, I'm not sure how to interpret it."

"Tell me."

Nikolas's temper flared briefly at being ordered around like a servant, and was severely tempted not to share anything with the infuriating man. However, Lucky was out there somewhere, injured and in who knew what kind of trouble. Lucky's brash manner was just as likely to get him killed as one of Luke's many enemies. Sometimes Nikolas wondered what Helena and Faison had done to his brother to make him develop such a dangerous trait. Making his decision, Nikolas began to talk.

"They found a Lucas Lorenzo Spencer Jr. living here. He has the same social security number, same birthplace; he even appears to fit Lucky's description. However, according to what they found, he's been going to school here for three years, and just received his Bachelors in computer science a few weeks ago. He can't be our Lucky." Nikolas stopped, waiting for Luke's reaction.

Luke thought on this for a moment, and then frowned into the phone. "Must be someone who found out about the fire and still thinks Lucky's dead." Luke stopped there and rubbed his eyes, those words were still very hard to say. To this day he occasionally woke in the middle of the night thinking that Lucky being alive was a dream and would desperately seek the kid out just to make sure. "It's a little risky, taking on the identity of someone who's been gone for such a short time, but not unheard of. Still, getting a degree under that name and starting a life with it . . . I'm not sure." Luke paused again still thinking. This would most likely end up with him finding some runaway twenty year old who had taken on the name of someone he thought was dead and started a new life with it. Then again, maybe Lucky had found out someone was using his name and had come here to confront him with it. Luke shook his head at the thought. No, Lucky wouldn't do that; he knew far too well, what it was like to need to borrow someone's identity for a while. Still, he didn't have anything else to follow up on right now, and he had to do _something_. "Let's go ahead and check it out," Luke decided suddenly, "Give me the address, I'll meet you there."

Nikolas sighed at Luke's tone, but gave him the address before Luke hung up on him.

* * *

"Once the drug was in your system, I had the suggestion planted for you to come here." Damien Malus explained to Jeremy, at the end of his narrative. "The drug had the double effect of making sure you would forget what had happened while still behaving in the anticipated manner."

Damien stopped talking, letting Jeremy take in what he'd just said, and turned his attention to Lucky. Lucky had gone very still the moment he'd walked into the room and hadn't moved a muscle since. Over the past six months that had been the only reaction Lucky had to anything. That was part of the reason he'd brought Jeremy here. He hoped bringing everything to light would improve the boy's disposition.

With the two young men in the same room together, Damien knew that one would never be mistaken for the other. Even without the wheelchair, Lucky was a lot thinner and looked quite a bit younger. Jeremy might be mistaken for an older brother, perhaps, because the similarities were there, in the eyes, the cheekbones, hair color, even somewhat in the jaw, but the differences were still enough that anyone other than a casual observer could easily tell them apart.

A strangled noise, sounding like it was coming from the back of someone's throat brought his attention back to Jeremy. Jeremy was obviously very agitated and Damien was starting to get annoyed with the young man. He'd started his story several times, only to be interrupted by Jeremy's unappealing and overly loud voice. He really couldn't fathom as to how the young man had survived living on the streets as long as he had before Faison picked him up.

"You're telling me, that I'm here because you had somebody drug me, then plant the suggestion in my head to come here?" Jeremy asked, again, and Damien resisted the urge to shoot the boy for the repetition. How many times was he going to have to explain this?

"To this city, yes; I wanted you to find this house on your own."

"Why!" again Jeremy's volume was far too loud to be considered conversational, "Why do you want me here?"

"You wanted to know the truth, boy, what does it matter why?" Damien answered, finally letting some of his annoyance show in his voice, as Jeremy jumped to his feet.

Jeremy glanced over at Lucky, trying to read his reaction to this, but Lucky was again staring at his hands. Lucky's behavior was doing far more to spook him than anything else and he couldn't shake the feeling he should never have come here.

"So what happens now?" Jeremy asked, trying to calm down. The more rational part of his brain finally asserting itself and telling him it would not be good to loose control if this situation turned dangerous on him.

"I help you regain your real memories." Damien paused, looking up at Jeremy, who had stilled slightly but refused to sit back down. "That's what you want isn't it?"

"Yeah," Jeremy said slowly and eyed Malus suspiciously, still trying to figure out this guy's angle. Malus had admitted to taking over Faison's 'business' and he hadn't denied holding the real Lucky Spencer prisoner for three years. Now he suddenly decided to bring everything to light? It didn't make sense, there had to be something else going on here.

"Well then," Malus said, gesturing as he stood, bringing in two men from the hall, "I think we should begin."

Jeremy, acting on instinct, backed as far away from the men coming into the room as he could. When they began to move toward him, he pushed past them in a sudden burst of motion and ran out of the room, pausing for just a second, trying to remember where the front door was. Hearing Malus's shout behind him, Jeremy picked up speed, running with the added boost of adrenaline. He had to get out of here; he would go through a window if he had to.

Running past the hallway, into the foyer Jeremy suddenly found himself face-to-face with several men waiting for him by the front door, realizing he was surrounded, he did the only thing that he could think of to do. He braced himself and ran headlong into the men, like a football player. It almost worked, but the man on his left had enough presence of mind to trip him and from there the two held him still. Once he'd been subdued, one of the men following him took out a syringe, and injected its contents into a still struggling Jeremy. It only took a few seconds for the drug to find its way into his blood stream and the room began to dim. The last thing Jeremy saw before loosing consciousness was Dr. Damien Malus kneeling down in front of him and grasping his chin in his hands so he could look him in the eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

**Section Six**

Nikolas looked around the building apprehensively. He'd come here immediately after giving Luke the address, but somehow Luke had still managed to get there first. The building was very large with security that rivaled Wyndemere's. The lights were still on and there was fresh food in the kitchen. The place looked like it should be occupied and the fact that it was completely empty was the source of Nikolas's unease.

Luke hadn't hesitated to enter the building, gun drawn, and had told Nikolas to "look around" then disappeared. What exactly he was supposed to be looking for Nikolas had no clue. There was nothing here of interest . . . Two folders on the coffee table caught his eye as he sat down on a couch.

Picking up the folders Nikolas noted they were medical files. One labeled "Lucas Lorenzo Spencer Jr." obviously from General Hospital, and the other labeled "Lucky Spencer" from the county hospital here.

"Hey Cassadine," Nikolas heard Luke call from somewhere, "I think I've found something."

"Me too," Nikolas murmured to himself, standing up to find Luke while still reading the files, "Me too."

* * *

Jeremy was aware of someone looking at him. Had been for quite a while, but for some reason he was reluctant to wake up and leave the peaceful darkness. Except . . . Now that he was more conscious of things around him, he realized that he was incredibly thirsty.

After a few moments of trying to ignore his thirst, Jeremy gave up and opened his eyes. To his right Lucky Spencer sat in a wheel chair, holding out an unopened water bottle for him. Jeremy took it gratefully only to drop it to the floor as a blinding flash of pain erupted behind his eyes. A series of conflicting images from his childhood assaulted him and Jeremy grasped his head desperately waiting for it to end.

When he opened his eyes Lucky bent down to pick up the dropped water bottle handing it back to him impassively. Jeremy took the bottle with shaky hands and managed a few drinks of it before looking back at Lucky.

"What was that?" Jeremy asked, his voice trembling slightly.

"Your memories trying to reassert themselves; Malus gave you something to make them start coming back faster." Lucky paused, and Jeremy tried to wrap his still aching head around that fact.

"He's completely full of it you know." Lucky continued when Jeremy looked up at him again. "When he tells you he's the only one who can restore your memories. They were already starting to come back. You wouldn't be here if they hadn't. The only thing he's done is accelerate the process. The headaches will probably stop in a few weeks, and they'll get farther apart from each other as time goes by. I wouldn't worry about it too much."

Jeremy frowned as Lucky turned his chair away to pick up the other water bottle sitting on a table in the center of the room. The room was a near perfect duplicate of the one he remembered from when he was with Faison, except that this one had two beds instead of one and it was about two times as large.

"Where are we?" Jeremy asked, standing up slowly and walking over to the door.

"I'm sure I don't know," Lucky said not turning around, "But don't think you're going to try another rash escape attempt. The door only opens by remote."

"Suddenly I'm experiencing an extreme case of déjà vu."

Lucky smiled for the first time since Jeremy had seen him, "I guess when you're a bad guy you don't think twice about stealing someone else's idea."

Jeremy turned his head, looking around. Seeing nothing of interest he focused his attention back onto Lucky. Funny, it was so easy to think of someone else as Lucky, he'd thought it would be harder, after carrying the name for so long. Never one to let silence reign for long Jeremy asked the first question that came to mind.

"So, uhm, what's up with the wheelchair?"

The sharp look Lucky shot him was enough to make him regret his tactlessness, something that happened more often than he would like to admit.

By the time Lucky answered, his expression was back to the impassive gaze Jeremy had gotten used to.

"You remember I told you Faison thought he'd killed me? That's why he found you?" Lucky shrugged, "This is a remnant from that."

"You've been in a wheelchair for five years?"

Lucky turned away from him this time, heading for a dresser at the far end of the room. "Just under three; I was in a coma for a while." Lucky opened a drawer and pulled something out, then turned to face Jeremy again. "By that time, Faison was dead and you had already been released." Lucky paused, and showed Jeremy the deck of cards he'd taken out of the drawer. "I've been itching to find someone to play poker with. You up for a game?"

"Only if I can deal." Jeremy said, pleased to have something to do other than brood.

"Hey, I could have suggested chess." Lucky announced, already dealing the cards, his quick wrist movements a sure sign of experience.

Jeremy sat down, anticipating a spectacular losing streak.


	7. Chapter 7

**Section Seven**

Nikolas watched Luke pace from one end of the jet to another, occasionally pausing to glare at the medical files and single DVD they'd managed to salvage from an elaborate surveillance system. He really couldn't blame the man; the information there had stunned him as well. How Luke had found the hidden room Nikolas would never know and it was a testament to Luke's ingenuity that he'd been able to get the DVD suck in the machine out, without destroying it, as he had the machine. The information on that one DVD had shaken him to the core.

The medical files helped them piece together what must have happened. The young man they had known for the last few years had not only figured out he wasn't the real Lucky Spencer, but had _found_ the real Lucky. Nikolas hoped Luke would snap out of this soon and figure out what to do, despite what must be going through his head. Lucky needed help, _both_ Lucky's needed help, and he didn't have a clue where to start looking for them.

* * *

"Dr. Malus?" Colins said from the door, carefully avoiding looking in.

"What is it Colins?" Malus said looking up from the screen where he was watching Lucky and Jeremy playing cards.

"We were unable to retrieve the information you wanted from the house. Nikolas Cassadine and Luke Spencer got there before we could get back." Colins said carefully, not moving from his spot in the doorway.

"And they found everything?" Malus asked incredulously. He knew for a fact they were there for less than fifteen minutes.

"I'm afraid so, sir," Colins said evenly, "Spencer found the hidden room much faster than anticipated."

Malus sighed and closed his eyes. It was his own fault, really. He hadn't expected Spencer to team with Cassadine, and when they did he had counted on their long standing animosity to slow them down. Instead they seemed to be moving twice as fast.

"There's nothing that can be done about it now." Malus finally decided, he had intended for the information to come out eventually, albeit a lot slower and in a much more controlled fashion.

"Just be sure nothing can be traced back to me or the company. And double the security on Lucky and Jeremy."

"Yes sir," Colins said, backing out of the doorway.

Malus watched the closed door for a second before turning his attention back to the computer screen. He didn't approve of poker. Lucky had shown a weakness for gambling many years ago, and even though the kid had managed to overcome the obstacle Malus still tried to keep Lucky away from anything that could prove a temptation. But watching the small smile on Lucky's face as he shuffled the cards he decided he would let it go for now. He hadn't seen the kid that animated in years.

* * *

The city was blanketed in pure white, street lights making the falling snow sparkle. Sonny Corinthos stared blankly out the window of his penthouse, oblivious to the spectacular view. A short knock, followed by the sound of the door opening made Sonny turn.

"Jason." He said by way of greeting as his friend and right hand man closed the door behind him.

"I couldn't find anything." Jason stated without preamble, "Whatever Luke's doing, he's doing it quietly."

Jason noted the tightening of Sonny's shoulders at the news and wondered what Luke had done to make Sonny so nervous. The two had been ignoring each other for the most part lately.

"I was afraid of that." Sonny said turning back to face the window, "It means, whatever it is, he didn't go looking for it just because he was bored." Jason nodded agreeing with the sentiment. Luke got bored easily, and when he found something interesting to play with he wasn't quiet about it.

"Check the Cassadine front." Sonny said after a minute. "Things have been quiet there for a while, but you never know with Luke."

Jason nodded to Sonny's back and walked out of the penthouse quietly.

* * *

Nikolas paused in front of Luke's hotel suite. After they had found the medical files and DVD at the house, Luke had thrown a very deliberate tempter tantrum. Nikolas supposed he should be grateful the man had left the Cassadine jet before going on his tirade. But the bill the hotel had sent for the trashed room had been considerable and Nikolas wasn't sure which would have been less expensive to pay for. He didn't blame Luke for needing to vent, but there would be time to rail at the world later, _after_ they had found Lucky.

Nikolas opened the door cautiously, taking in the disarray that had once been an orderly, high priced hotel room. Broken furniture littered the floors and broken glass glittering like diamonds covering nearly every available surface, crunched under his feet as he moved.

He had expected to find Luke passed out drunk somewhere, so it came as a surprise when he found the man hunched over a laptop, not a single liquor bottle in sight.

"Have a long night?" Nikolas asked, looking around to note that every room of the suite was in a similar state of chaos as the entranceway.

"Have your _professional_ detectives managed to find anything useful?" Luke asked without looking up, ignoring the question.

"Nothing we didn't already know." Nikolas admitted reluctantly. "The house was being rented, paid for in cash every month. Oddly, the identity of the man renting the house was traced to Canada, and he hasn't been seen since October of '93."

Luke looked up at that and any doubt Nikolas might have had about the man's sobriety was instantly lifted by the sharp look in his eyes. "Tell me." Luke ordered.

Nikolas paused deliberately, and found a chair that had miraculously managed to survive the destruction and sank down into it, pulling out the sheet of paper his detectives had provided him with. "Robert Johnson." He read, wondering what had caught Luke's attention.

"Let me guess," Luke said raising his hand to stop Nikolas from continuing, "Mr. Johnson was married to a woman named Linda and they had a ten year old son named Kevin." Luke said inexplicitly and Nikolas glanced at the paper in his hand confirming everything Luke had just said. Nikolas sighed in agitation. Why did Luke ask for the information if he'd already found it?

"I take it you tracked down the same lead?" Nikolas guessed wearily.

"No," Luke said, and Nikolas stifled an angry reply when he saw the distant and haunted look in Luke's eyes. "That's the identity Laura, Lucky, and I were using just before we came to Port Charles."

Nikolas blinked, trying to get his mind around the implications of that.

Luke leaned back in his chair, staring at the computer screen in front of him, a frown deepening the lines on his face. Nikolas suddenly got the impression that Luke was no longer aware of him.

"Someone wants me to know that they understand who I am, what I'm capable of." Luke paused, and Nikolas waited for him to continue. This was a side of Luke that he'd never seen, though he'd always known it must exist. Luke's reputation for being cunning and ruthless was well deserved, despite the outrageous and carefree persona most people saw.

"Lucky went to school on a scholarship." Luke said, reaching a hand out to touch the keyboard. "He took the maximum load of classes each semester and got his bachelor's in a little under two years."

Nikolas nodded, his people had already uncovered as much. He'd even had them send him a copy of Lucky's transcript and had been impressed by the nearly perfect scores.

"He took most of his classes online," Luke continued, almost murmuring, "But a few were taken on campus." Nikolas kept quiet, almost afraid to break the spell. Luke wasn't really sharing information, he was thinking out loud, and Nikolas was certain it wouldn't take much to see a return of the insanity that was usually Luke Spencer.

"What I can't figure out," Luke said sitting up to look at the computer screen closer, "Is why now? This guy has held Lucky for years. Why did he suddenly decide to bring the truth to light now?"

"Maybe he didn't intend for anyone else to figure it out." Nikolas said taking the chance that Luke really wanted a response. "Maybe he just wanted to bring. . . Jeremy. . . here." Nikolas' voice caught slightly on the name. It was hard to accept the fact that the brother he'd gotten to know over the last several years wasn't really his brother.

Luke shook his head, "No, I've been left a very deliberate trail of breadcrumbs. I was _meant_ to follow and I was _meant_ to find this." He said holding up the single DVD they'd managed to salvage from the house and Nikolas blinked again. When had Luke taken _that_ from the Cassadine jet?

"Which means there's a clue somewhere that wasn't left deliberately," Luke continued, focusing all of his intense energy back onto the computer, "I just have to find it."


	8. Chapter 8

**Section Eight**

Jeremy sat very still holding his head in his hands waiting for the pain to ease. Once the flashing lights going off behind his eyelids faded he opened his eyes to see Lucky watching him. Jeremy glanced at the forgotten cards on the table, he couldn't remember what he was doing, but he guessed it didn't matter, he was losing anyway.

Jermey took the water bottle Lucky handed to him and drank half of it in one, long swallow. He didn't really understand why it helped, but for some reason it really did. Lucky, apparently realizing he wasn't up to playing anymore, gathered up the cards and put them back in their box.

"Did you ever try to escape?" Jeremy asked, watching Lucky wheel his chair over to the dresser. Lucky paused as he opened the drawer then glanced at Jeremy meaningfully before he put the cards back and pushed the drawer closed.

"I mean," Jeremy said waiting for Lucky to turn around, "I know you tried to escape from Fasion a few times. I'm just wondering if you tried later. You know, after Fasion was dead."

Lucky stared at the dresser for long moment and Jeremy had just about decided he wasn't going to answer when Lucky turned around, the now familiar blank look on his face.

"Not really," Lucky said wheeling his chair back to the center of the room, "I mean I've thought about it. Investigated ways, things like that, but . . . No, I haven't made a real attempt."

"Why not?" Jeremy asked, finishing off his water and tossing the bottle in the small metal garbage can in the corner.

Lucky watched the bottle sail through the air and grunted slightly when it hit the edge of the can before falling inside of it. "Well, I was in a coma for a long time." Lucky said, staring at the garbage can, but not really seeing it. "When I first woke up, I could barely move. And I thought . . . I'd work my way up to it. Get my strength back, then make an escape when I was better, ya know?"

Lucky finally raised his eyes to look at him and Jeremy was surprised by the emotion he saw there. "But then my legs wouldn't cooperate," Lucky continued quietly "and I thought, 'It's still possible, people learn to deal with this every day, I can figure it out.' And I began researching, planning, plotting . . . then one day. . ." Lucky paused and looked away, his eyes suspiciously moist, "One day Malus came in and told me about you." Lucky ducked his head, hiding behind his overly long hair, but Jeremy could hear the pain in his voice. "He showed me recordings of you with my family and friends. . ." Lucky paused, wiping at his eyes, "How happy everyone was that you were there and. . ." Lucky took a deep breath and looked up. "And I decided it might be for the best to not go back and interrupt that." Lucky finished, his face gone completely implacable once again.

"I'm sorry," Jeremy said quietly, "I didn't know."

Lucky smiled a sad, heartbreaking smile and said, "It's not your fault."

"Still, I wish things could have been different." Jeremy said looking down at his empty hands.

"Yeah, me too." Lucky said quietly. There was a long pause within which neither one of them could think of anything to say before Lucky broke the silence, "The lights will be going out in a few minutes. You should get ready for bed."

Jeremy stood up, taking Lucky's word for it. There were no extra lights in the room, no widows, or illuminated clock faces that would help dispel the darkness and Jeremy would admit to himself he'd been thoroughly spooked when the lights had gone out that first night. He still didn't know how Lucky was able to pinpoint the time so accurately when he had no frame of reference to judge by. But he supposed, given enough time, you could adjust to almost anything.

* * *

"So, where's the real Lucky Spencer?" Jeremy's voice said, coming from the tiny speakers of Luke's laptop.

"You've been talking to him for the last half an hour young man." A male voice said, and Luke hit a button on the screen, sending the scene back a few seconds to watch it again. The DVD had been slightly damaged, but no amount of technical magic was going to bring the owner of that voice into focus. He simply hadn't been where the camera could pick him up. Luke had accepted that, days ago.

What caught his attention, the reason he was stopping the recording and playing it back over and over again, was the look on Lucky's face when the person off screen had made his presence known. Lucky, _his_ Lucky, the boy that he raised from an infant, was doing an admirable job of hiding how petrified he was. But Luke knew the kid, had always been able to read him inside out, and he could see the fear.

It was odd to see Jeremy and Lucky together, and when he'd first watched the recording that started with Jeremy showing Lucky the medical files, he hadn't wanted to believe it. But Lucky's quiet intensity had caught his attention, and he'd found himself staring at the boy in the wheelchair from the moment he'd shown up on the screen. The mannerisms, the tilt of his head as he listened, even the tone of his voice as he spoke reminded Luke so much of the child that Fasion had taken from him. He'd thought those qualities had been brainwashed out of Lucky when he'd first come back, and Luke finally realized that over the years, as he waited for his Lucky to return, he'd simply gotten used to Jeremy. It had made it very easy to ignore the little nagging voice in his head that told him his son hadn't really returned.

Tears blurred his eyes and he wiped them away angrily. Luke spotted the empty glass sitting on the table next to him and picked it up along with the whiskey bottle that had exactly one shot missing from it. He poured another shot into the glass but after a second of indecision, he threw both the glass and the bottle into the wall as hard as he could. The sound of shattering glass and liquid falling into the expensive carpet was strangely satisfying and for a second he looked for something else to throw. Instead he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. There wasn't time for this. They'd found the house over a week ago, and in that time he'd completely lost track of his son.

He'd gone over every piece of information he could find, obsessing over every little detail, hoping beyond hope, that there was something there to find. Whoever had taken Lucky knew exactly who he was, they knew Luke's background and what he could find, and if it was just that, Luke might concede that there was nothing more to find except. . . except for the fact that Lucky was alive. Lucky would have found a way to give him a clue, he just _knew_ it. Somewhere along the line, Lucky had left him something to follow. He just had to let go of the way Jeremy had colored his perception of his son, and remember the teenager he had once known so well in order to find it.

* * *

Smoke billowed thickly in the air obscuring Sonny's view of the burning warehouse, and he turned to leave, satisfied that the work had been done. Yet another competitor trying to take over his territory in Port Charles would never bother him again. The thought didn't calm him as much as it would have ten years ago. He'd learned that his competitors were like weeds, as soon as you pull one of them out, another one pops up to fill the void. He was getting kind of tired of it, and wished, not for the first time, that he had Luke here to help him. The man had a way of spotting trouble quickly, quietly, often able to get rid of them before it came to a drastic solution such as this. Unless, of course, the man was bored, then for some odd reason he seemed to really enjoy prolonging the experience. Sonny had passed it off as a quirk of Luke's personality, something that wasn't annoying enough to make an issue over. But when Luke had shut him out after the fire that had supposedly killed Lucky, he'd been grateful not to have to deal with it anymore.

Jason was waiting for him by the car and Sonny wondered for a moment if Jason had set the fire or if he'd arranged for someone else to do it. It didn't matter, though, Jason had promised to take care of the problem and the problem was taken care of.

"Found Luke yet?" Sonny asked opening the door; he'd driven himself tonight.

Jason shook his head, "He boarded the Cassadine Jet with Nikolas a little over a week ago, but neither one of them have been heard from since." Jason paused as if trying to decide something before continuing. "The Cassadine expense account was used to fix up a trashed hotel suite in Pheonix a few days ago, but there's no guarantee Nikolas or Luke were ever there."

Sonny raised an eyebrow at this. "Nikolas doesn't know how to stay that quiet. Cassadines leave a trail a mile wide wherever they go." Sonny paused thinking this over. "There's only one thing that could bring Luke and Nikolas together." He said decisively, getting into his car, "Find out what's going on with Lucky and Lesley Lu."

Jason nodded and disappeared as silently as he'd come. The wind shifted, taking the smoke from the burning building away just long enough for the fire underneath to be seen, but Sonny didn't notice; he was already in his car heading home.

* * *

A gust of steam blew out of the doorway into the other room and Jeremy emerged from behind it, his hair still wet from his long shower. He paused a moment, leaning against the door jamb to take in the sight of Lucky in the exact center of the room, methodically cutting up an apple. The tray that lay just within Lucky's reach was laden with fruit and Jeremy guessed breakfast had come while he was in the shower.

Jeremy sighed and walked into the room fully. He hadn't eaten so many fruits and vegetables in his life as he had in the last week and a half, what he wouldn't give for a carb or two. Lucky didn't look up from his careful dissection of the apple, but he did push the tray closer to the other side of the table when Jeremy sat down. Taking his cue from Lucky, Jeremy picked an apple off the tray and bit into it viciously.

Lucky had no problem with silence, he knew that. Lucky rarely instigated conversation. Jeremy, on the other hand, was finding he had a hard time with the quiet. Lucky had suggested he play a CD a few days ago and for a while that helped, but when the only thing he could find was classical music like Beethoven, and Chopin, he'd lost it and destroyed the CD player by throwing it into a wall. Lucky had been in the bathroom when that happened, and when he came out he hadn't commented. He'd just wheeled himself over to a closet, handed Jeremy a broom and proceeded to clean up the mess.

Jeremy ate quickly and tossed the apple core into the empty trash bin and scanned the room again for something to keep himself occupied. Malus had taken the deck of cards away from them almost immediately after Jeremy had destroyed the CD player, so his usual default of playing solitaire was gone. The bookshelf was filled with text books, the majority of them about computers and the few books that looked like they were novels were written in a language he didn't recognize so that was out. There was a small wooden chessboard sitting on the edge of a dresser, and he knew Lucky would be happy to play a game with him if he asked, but the board reminded him too much of his time with Fasion and there was enough about his surroundings reminding him of that without adding to it.

Jeremy sighed and turned his attention back to Lucky. He wondered how long it would be before someone noticed that Lucky was just picking up food and shredding it, without even attempting to eat.

"It didn't work with you did it?" Jeremy asked, picking up an orange, picking at it with his fingernails.

Lucky looked up from the paste he'd made of his apple and blinked at Jeremy as if he'd forgotten he was there.

"What?" Lucky asked, confused.

"The brainwashing," Jeremy said, leaning back in his chair, "it didn't work on you did it?"

Lucky gave up pretending to be interested in his food, and turned his attention to Jeremy curiously. "It's kind of hard to brainwash someone when they know what you're doing."

Jeremy narrowed his eyes, "How did you know what he was doing?"

"Well it was obvious, wasn't it?" Lucky said tilting his head quizzically. "Why else would you kidnap someone and fake their death? I knew I wasn't being used as bait, like Fasion claimed. Everyone who knew me thought I was dead."

Jeremy blinked, that hadn't occurred to him, then shook his head ruefully, "How is it that anyone ever thought I was you?"

Lucky paused, as if trying to decide what to say to that, "Don't beat yourself up over this Jeremy," he said finally, "It's not your fault that they were able to brainwash you."

"No?" Jeremy asked viciously, his voice echoing a little in the metal room, "They weren't able to brainwash YOU!"

Lucky rolled his eyes, "Come on Jeremy, despite what the memories that were planted in your head make you think, you didn't grow up in my world. To you, brainwashing was something that happened on TV and in movies. It wasn't something that you would have to know about, and it certainly wasn't something you would have to resist." Lucky leaned in and looked at Jeremy intently, "There was nothing you could have done to prevent this."

Jeremy looked into Lucky's eyes, wanting to believe him so badly it hurt. Unable to hold the gaze anymore Jeremy dropped his eyes to focus on the partially peeled orange still in his hands.

Lucky watched Jeremy pick at the orange, feeling a little helpless. Jeremy wasn't cut out for this. Sitting and waiting in this little room was going to drive him crazy as surely as Helena and Fasion had driven him crazy. Lucky had gotten used to solitude, though, in the last couple of years Malus had allowed him out in the house and even let him go to a few classes on campus. But being back in this little windowless room wasn't really a far cry from how he'd been living his life over the last three years. In fact, in a way it actually made him feel better, having his confinement be a little more direct. It was easier to convince yourself you were a prisoner when you were being held like this, than it was when you were allowed outside in the world, even if you always had a 'body guard' following you around.

Lucky hoped his dad found them soon, because Jeremy's fragile psyche was ready to crack and he didn't know how to stop it from happening.


	9. Chapter 9

**Section Nine**

"The scholarship!" Luke said grandly as he entered the room.

Nikolas turned way from the files he'd been going over to acknowledge Luke's sudden presence. "The scholarship?" he asked suspiciously. Luke had been out of contact for three days now, despite Nikolas' repeated attempts to get the man to communicate, and for him to show up here, out of the blue like this was unexpected.

"Of course!" Luke exclaimed, obviously excited, "Lucky went to school on a scholarship."

Comprehension dawned on Nikolas at the mention of Lucky's name and he was immediately interested. The people he'd hired to help had come up against a rather formidable road block while searching for Lucky and Jeremy; if Luke had something concrete to follow up on he would be willing to overlook some of the older man's more annoying habits, for a while anyway.

"Go on." Nikolas said, letting Luke know he had his attention.

"Think about it," Luke said, plopping down hard into the chair across from him, and Nikolas winced at sound the legs made scratching against the hardwood floor. "You have enough money to pay for a house in cash, install an elaborate surveillance system, and you have either taken over Ceasar Fasion's business or you know enough about it to have found Lucky and figured out what happened. Why, pray-tell, would you have to send Lucky to school on a scholarship?"

Nikolas frowned, "There are any number of reasons for that Luke. It could be he didn't want Lucky to go to school and the scholarship was Lucky's way of forcing the issue, or maybe . . ."

Luke cut Nikolas off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "No, there's no reason for it. Someone who's this good at covering their tracks knows there are better ways to fund something like that. This was Lucky's doing. Lucky did this so I would have something to look into if I ever found out what happened."

Nikolas fought of a wave of irritation at being dismissed so quickly. He'd given Luke a lot more leeway than he would have given anyone else, because he knew how hard the situation must be for the man, but this was getting ridiculous.

"Are you sure you aren't just so desperate to find something that you're seeing meaning where there isn't any?" He asked reasonably.

"You have anything better to follow up on?" Luke said confidently propping his feet up on the edge of the desk.

"All right," Nikolas finally conceded, oddly comforted by the return of the annoying Luke he'd known for so long, "we'll look into the scholarship."

* * *

Malus sighed in frustration, sitting down at his desk heavily. He wasn't ready for Luke to find them yet. He hadn't had time to move into his position in Port Charles fully. Oh, he had made some good headway, and with the local mob boss ensconced in a turf war, there had been no one there to inhibit him. But the war was over, Corinthos had taken care of that little problem faster than expected, Jeremy had started regaining his memories faster than expected, Luke had found Jeremy at the hospital faster than expected. Things were just moving too fast.

He didn't know why he was so worked up over this now. He'd been planning it for months, and even if Luke showed up today things could still work out exactly as anticipated. Malus pushed a button on his desk and turned his chair to watch the TV monitor as it slid silently out of the hidden compartment. After a moment the dark screen flickered to life, showing him Lucky and Jeremy's room. Jeremy was, predictably, pacing the room like a caged animal. Lucky was ignoring his companion in favor of reading through one of his school books.

A strange sensation filled his chest as he took in the familiar sight of Lucky sitting quietly, reading to himself, and suddenly he knew what was bothering him. It wasn't that he wasn't ready to move to the next part of his plan. It was that he wasn't ready to let Lucky go. He'd had Lucky to himself for the last three years, and giving that up was a risk he wasn't sure he wanted to take. When Lucky was no longer directly under his influence, chances were the kid would turn against the relationship he'd carefully cultivated between them.

He had been considering bringing the truth to light for a long time now; ever since Lucky had hospitalized himself before his final semester of school by simply not eating. Lucky was, by nature, a rambler. He thrived on movement and adrenaline, it's what he was used to, what he'd grown up doing, and being here was very slowly killing him. If he was honest with himself, Malus knew, five years earlier, Lucky would have joined Jeremy in his endless pacing.

He had tried getting Lucky out of the house, even going so far as to let him take a few classes on campus, and for a while that had helped, but about halfway into the semester he'd gone listless again. Then his people had informed him Jeremy was beginning to regain his memories and he had been forced into a decision he wasn't ready for. He had briefly considered bringing Jeremy here alone, with no way for Luke to find them, but Luke had ended up in town following a clue Jeremy had left, and suddenly Malus had found himself with no other option.

Malus sighed, allowing his gaze to slip from the monitor to the window. He wished he'd gotten to Lucky before Fasion. He could have ingratiated himself to the boy slowly. Allowing him to build a rapport, get the kid to trust him. Instead he was forced to show Lucky how his family had happily accepted someone else in his place to get him to stay. And it had been voluntary, he was sure of that, Lucky hadn't made a single move to give him the impression he was planning on leaving. Now, however, he wasn't sure.

He had told Lucky the reason for the increased security and return to the isolation room was for Jeremy's benefit, but the truth was, since Jeremy had appeared, he'd seen the wheels turning behind Lucky's eyes. Lucky _wanted_ to go back home. As refreshing as it was to see the return of the personality traits that had first caught his attention, he couldn't help but wish he could keep Lucky here. That had always been his problem with Lucky. How do you encourage traits such as that without running the risk of having the kid take off on you? Even Luke had had that problem, and he _raised_ the kid. Though Luke had made some rather colossal mistakes, the idea that Lucky would leave someone he loved like that was still disheartening.

Movement on the screen caught his eye and he pulled his gaze away from the window to see what was happening. Jeremy had suddenly stopped his pacing and rushed over to Lucky. Malus paused a moment taking in the scene, Jeremy's body was blocking his view of Lucky, so he pushed a button on the desk to switch to another camera and turned on the sound. With the angle shifted, he could clearly see Lucky slumped down in the chair, one arm hanging over the side, the book he'd been reading crumpled on the floor. Jeremy had Lucky's face in his hands and he was talking quietly.

"Lucky? Lucky?" Jeremy's voice filtered through the speakers in the room, and for once it didn't seem annoying "Lucky, what happened? Are you OK?" Jeremy's voice took on a slight edge, and got a little louder, "Lucky! _Come on_, don't do this to me. You're the only thing keeping me sane here."

Malus made his decision quickly. He was perfectly aware that Lucky could be faking. They'd been in the isolation room for nearly two weeks and it wouldn't be too far off the mark to say Lucky and Jeremy both had to be going a little stir crazy by now. But the pale color of Lucky's skin combined with the undertone of panic in Jeremy's voice convinced him he couldn't take that chance. In less than a minute he's shut down his office, called the doctor and headed to the isolation room at an impressive clip.


	10. Chapter 10

**Section Ten**

Nikolas watched Luke tapping the fingers of one hand against the opposite arm with something close to amusement. They had traced the scholarship to a computer company called DM Enterprises operating out of Washington State and, while Nikolas had initially thought it wasn't odd for a computer company to issue a scholarship to someone who was majoring in computers Luke had dug deeper and found that it was the only scholarship the company had _ever_ issued. Nikolas, slightly mollified by the information had allowed Luke to try and trace it further, but the man had hit a brick wall. So Nikolas had used his influence to track down more information. Luke's comment about the Cassadine name finally being worth something had irked him, but he'd let it slide. He could gather any information about any person who worked or had ever worked for DM Enterprises and it was hard not to gloat about that, even though he had absolutely no clue as to how to interpret said information.

Luke had taken the disk quickly, and was now sorting through it. He could tell it bothered the man that he'd needed Nikolas for that, the way he kept randomly spouting out phrases like "I would have found this eventually" and "It doesn't take a rocket scientist to _gather_ information. It's all what you do with it." An hour into wading through the massive amount of information suddenly at his fingertips and he was _still_ muttering things like that. Nikolas tried to smother his smile before moving into Luke's line of sight. He'd gone silent about ten seconds ago, and past experience told him that meant the man had found something.

"What did you find?" Nikolas asked, tilting his head down trying to see the computer screen.

"Medical records." Luke said without looking up. Nikolas paused; he knew those hadn't been on the disk he'd given Luke. Maybe there was insurance information, but medical records were beyond the sphere of even his influence, at least when dealing with a hospital he didn't own.

"Why are medical records so interesting?" Nikolas asked after a minute.

"Lucky's in a wheelchair," Luke said, obviously annoyed, "did you notice that?"

"Yeeees." Nikolas said slowly. He had noticed it, though he had deliberately avoided thinking of what the implications of that were.

"That means he's had medical attention Nikky boy," Luke said condescendingly still tapping away at the computer. "Somewhere along the line, Lucky saw a doctor. And the wheelchair tells us, there were probably complications, which means, he's likely still seeing a doctor. You see where I'm going with this?"

Nikolas nodded his head slightly, trying to keep his temper in check. He wasn't used to being talked down to.

"Aha!" Luke said with a sudden burst of sound, and Nikolas jumped involuntarily. "Gotcha." Luke said to the computer, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

Nikolas waited, hoping Luke would explain, but the man was oblivious to anything but the screen in front of him. Nikolas sighed, and sat down, he wouldn't interrupt Luke now, but he'd be damned if he would let the man walk out of there without explaining what was going on.

* * *

Jeremy twisted the metal ring around his wrist looking for a clasp or some other way of removing it, but all he could find was a smooth line bisecting the shiny metal. He'd found himself wearing the pseudo bracelet when he'd woken up alone in the room he'd been sharing with Lucky for the last while. He wasn't really sure how long, time had ceased to have any meaning after the first couple of nights. The only way he could be sure time had passed at all was the fact that the skin around his stitches was tight and almost healed.

He wished somebody would come in and tell him what had happened. All he remembered was hearing a thud and turning around to see Lucky slumped over in his wheelchair. He'd still been focused on Lucky when he heard Dr. Malus come in the room and he'd barely felt the sting of the needle as it pierced his skin when the tranquilizer dart hit him. He couldn't remember much after that, just a flurry of movement and noise around Lucky's wheelchair before everything went dark on him.

The sound of the door swishing open made Jeremy stand up quickly, but the room spun on him when he moved and he found himself grasping the edge of the bed for support. Once the room stopped spinning he was surprised to see someone he didn't recognize carrying a tranquilizer gun in one hand.

"Follow me." the man said once Jeremy focused on him and he walked down the hall without preamble.

Jeremy blinked in surprise, but walked out of the room anxiously. It really didn't matter what he was headed to, anything would be better than staying in that room alone. He followed the guard down a long narrow hallway that seemed to be sloping up at a slight angle and almost ran into the back of the guard when he stopped suddenly. Jeremy had noted the slight discoloration in what appeared to be a blank wall, so when the wall slid back, revealing a hospital bed he was only marginally surprised.

"Come in young man," Jeremy heard Dr. Malus say from somewhere inside the room.

Jeremy went into the room cautiously, deliberately exaggerating his movements attempting to mimic Luke's casual gait. He'd always admired the man's ability to seem completely at ease, no matter the situation.

"How is he?" Jeremy asked, eyes immediately focusing on Lucky's still form lying in the bed.

"He'll be fine." Malus said gesturing for him to take a seat next to the bed; Jeremy did so anxiously, as it put Malus at his back. Jeremy focused his eyes on the IV snaking up from Lucky's left hand to try and hide his unease and for the first time noticed a metal band identical to the one on his wrist encircling Lucky's.

"What's wrong with him?" Jeremy asked, his right hand unconsciously finding the metal band on his wrist.

"Nothing that can't be fixed," Malus said, walking over to the other side of the bed to look Jeremy in the eye. "I see you've noticed your new adornment." He continued, and Jeremy pulled his hand away from his wrist guiltily.

"What is it?" Jeremy asked after a moment of silence.

"A way of making sure this," Malus said gesturing toward Lucky, "doesn't happen again. I suggest you don't attempt to remove it." With that he turned and walked out the door.

Jeremy watched the door shut behind him in utter confusion. _Something_ had just happened, but for some reason he couldn't figure out what it was. When he finally glanced back at Lucky he was surprised to see the clear blue eyes watching him.

* * *

"New York," Nikolas said carefully, following Luke out to the jet, "we're heading to New York."

"Yep," Luke said in his infuriating sing song tone.

Nikolas took a deep breath and stood his ground. "This jet is not moving until you explain to me why we're heading back to New York."

Luke paused and looked back at him. "I'll tell you on the plane."

Nikolas shook his head, "You told me you would tell me on the way here, and all I've gotten from you in the last 20 minutes is we're heading back to New York. Now, either you tell me what you found, or you find your own transportation."

Luke looked at Nikolas in shock before giving him his slow, creepy smile. "I do believe the boy has finally found his backbone." He said sounding decidedly impressed, "All right, I'll tell ya. But not here, on the plane perhaps?"

Nikolas rolled his eyes but agreed; the landing pad was a little more public than necessary for discussing something like this. Besides, he could delay take off as long as he wanted and Luke knew it.

Once they were on the plane Luke took a moment to settle in before facing Nikolas' insistent stare.

"When I was looking through the insurance information," Luke started without preamble, "I found out the CEO of the company, one Dr. Damien Malus, paid off a substantial medical bill for a John Doe who had been in a hospital for a nearly two years. Now, I couldn't find much but I did find the guy hired a private Doctor who moved to Arizona just before Lucky started taking classes there, and . . ." Luke raised his hand pointing at the ceiling, "Just two weeks ago that same doctor was transferred to New York. He didn't request a transfer, he didn't move, nothing, just suddenly showed up practicing there, just like he did in Arizona."

"We're chasing a doctor?" Nikolas asked carefully.

"Not just any doctor," Luke said excitedly "_Lucky's_ doctor. I'm certain of it."

Nikolas thought about that for a moment. It seemed to be kind of a stretch, running around the country on a hunch, but. . . Luke's hunch about the scholarship had been right; it's possible this one could be too.

"You have an address?" Nikolas asked and was surprised by the genuine smile Luke gave him.

"I have an address." Luke confirmed with a grin and Nikolas nodded before standing up to inform his pilot of their destination.


	11. Chapter 11

**Section Eleven**

Luke sat in the car fidgeting with his cigar while he waited for Nikolas to come out of the clinic. The kid had proven surprisingly resourceful in his hunt for Lucky's Doctor, even going so far as to use his credentials as a 'major hiring company' to gain access to the guy's home address and client list. He was in there now checking to see where the guy went. Luke thought he knew, there was one address he'd visited several times already, but he figured it would be best to make sure the guy wasn't actually someplace he was supposed to be.

He wondered if he should tell Nikolas he was trying to beat a deadline. A long time ago, when Lucky was still very young, he and Lucky had agreed if Lucky was ever taken from him, he'd make his move around 7pm so Lucky could be ready for him when he got there. It had mainly been a way of making sure the kid would be able to stay calm if anything ever happened, but a part of him would always try and meet that deadline, even if Lucky no longer expected it.

The sight of Nikolas walking out of the building at an impressive clip derailed his train of thought and Luke managed to unlock the door just as Nikolas reached the car.

"He's not here." Nikolas said as he climbed into the car. "He was sent out on an emergency call earlier today and hasn't returned."

As soon as he heard the words Luke put the car in gear and peeled out of the lot. It was possible, he thought as he watched Nikolas frantically reach for the seat belt, that the words 'medical emergency' had bothered him a little.

* * *

"You're awake." Jeremy said in surprise when he turned in his seat to see Lucky watching him.

Lucky blinked slowly and furrowed his brow as if trying to process what was just said, before nodding faintly.

"Are you OK?" Jeremy asked, worried by the behavior.

Lucky grunted and shifted his weight before answering with a quiet, "Yeah."

"What happened?" Jeremy asked when it became apparent Lucky wasn't going to say anything else.

"We're getting outta here." Lucky said so quietly that Jeremy wasn't sure he'd heard him right.

"What?" he asked in confusion.

Lucky looked up at him, impatience clearly written on his face. "Get me a cup of water would ya?"

Perturbed Jeremy stood up to grab the pitcher of ice water sitting on the table next to Lucky's head. When he turned back, glass in hand, he was surprised to see Lucky had pulled out his IV and was poking the needle around the metal band on his wrist. Deciding it would be best not to comment; Jeremy sat down in the chair and waited for Lucky to notice him.

"Disable the cameras," Lucky said, grabbing the glass of water from him. Jeremy sat still, staring at this suddenly animated Lucky. "What are you waiting for?" Lucky asked and then blinked as something occurred to him. "Tell me you know how to disable the cameras."

Jeremy blinked out of his shock and stood up, "Uh, yeah, I can do that."

Lucky turned his attention away from Jeremy and back to the device around his wrist. He had to do this just right or the tranquilizer dart inside of it would be released and his plans would be over before they started. He swore under his breath when he noticed his hands had started to shake. Closing his eyes and taking a steady breath he willed the adrenaline pumping through his system to fade. There was a time when adrenaline had cleared his mind and steadied his nerves, but it had been too long since he'd done something like that, he was no longer used to it.

The 'click' of the latch releasing was satisfying and he smiled when the metal fell from his wrist. Lucky drank the water in his hand quickly before turning his attention to the heart monitor. By the time he'd finished disconnecting himself from the monitors Jeremy had the wheelchair waiting by the bed and Lucky smiled at him, pleased he'd finally figure out what they were doing. He had no idea where the microphones were, it would be best if they could do this with as little talking as possible. Damien would be occupied with the doctor for at least thirty minutes, discussing his 'relapse;' they had to be out of here before then.

Lucky grimaced as Jeremy helped him into the wheelchair, even after all these years it was still hard for him to accept the fact that he needed help with certain things. Once he was settled he grabbed Jeremy's wrist and picked the lock with the IV needle, it was much easier the second time around. He signaled to Jeremy to wait on the inside of the door before waving one of the bracelets at the door sensor. Just as he hoped, it was still programmed to open certain doors and he smiled at the surprised guard on the other side long enough for Jeremy to hit him over the head with the water pitcher. The sound of shattering glass was a little loud, but that couldn't be helped now.

The guard fell forward and Lucky caught his arm as he fell so he could put the metal band around the man's wrist. It would be better if they had a second guard because the devices monitored vital signs and it would be obviously apparent one of them was not connected. He would have waited to remove Jeremy's but he didn't know where the perimeter was set to release the tranquilizer dart so he'd decided not to risk it. Lucky waited in the doorway to prevent it from closing as Jeremy dragged the guard into the room before wheeling the chair down the hall as fast as he could, Jeremy close at his heels.

When they made it to the second door it was obvious that the sensor didn't recognize the bracelet, and Lucky banged the wall with his chair hard enough to rattle his teeth. Lucky was extremely grateful for Damien's paranoia when he saw a guard walk through the door to check on the noise, if he hadn't placed a guard there, they would have never gotten out in time. Jeremy was quick on the uptake and immediately put the guard in a choke hold while Lucky held the door open with his chair. When the guard finally lost consciousness Lucky tossed Jeremy the remaining bracelet, who clipped it on the man's wrist.

Once out of the basement of the building they found themselves on the ground floor of what appeared to be an office building. The clock on the wall confirmed that office hours were already over; the only people left in the building would be security guards. Lucky pulled Jeremy into a side room when he heard the distinctive jingling of keys, signaling someone's presence. Lucky could tell when Jeremy finally heard it as well, because he froze quite suddenly, exhaling only after the sound had disappeared into the distance.

Lucky pushed Jeremy out into the now empty hallway and glanced at the clock again. The time did nothing to ease his anxiety; it was already five after seven, which meant he'd chosen the wrong night for an escape. He'd been waiting for his dad to find them, but Jeremy had gotten increasingly agitated as time went by and Lucky knew Damien wouldn't tolerate much more before killing him.

A shout at the end of the hallway brought him up short and he turned to look toward the noise. The guard they had hidden from earlier had doubled back and was bringing his radio close to his face to raise the alarm. Lucky cursed, there was no way they'd be able to stop him, they were simply too far away.

The sound of running footsteps stopped the guard just as his finger reached the button on his radio and he turned trying to identify the source. He saw Luke Spencer a second too late and he dropped his radio before collapsing to the floor. Nikolas came up behind Luke, not the least bit surprised that he'd knocked yet another guard out, before turning his head to view the rest of the hall. For a second he thought he was hallucinating when he spotted Lucky and Jeremy at the other end of the hall, both young men staring blankly at the unconscious guard.

"Lucky!" Luke yelled, startling Nikolas.

Jeremy and Lucky both moved forward at the sound of Luke's voice, Lucky's hands going to the wheels on his chair. Jeremy on the other hand, moved forward a step or two before collapsing suddenly, his hands clutching the sides of his face. Lucky stopped his movement and went back to Jeremy.

"Damn!" Lucky cursed, trying to hold the larger man up. "I thought you were done with those."

Nikolas startled into action at Lucky's words hurried over to help support Jeremy.

"What's wrong with him?" Nikolas asked, heaving most of the young man's weight onto his shoulder.

"Headache," Lucky said inexplicitly, "We're going to have to carry him the rest of the way."

Lucky barely glanced at Luke when the man grabbed hold of the handles on the back of his chair and began pushing him down the hall. Nikolas hoisted Jeremy into a fireman's carry thinking furiously to himself that the young man was heavier than he looked as he followed Lucky and Luke to the open elevator. He would never figure out how Luke had managed to rig the thing, but he was grateful he had, he didn't relish carrying both Jeremy and Lucky down a flight of stairs.

They found no fewer than eight guards waiting for them as they exited the building and Lucky pushed Nikolas behind a dumpster just as the bullets started to fly. Luke returned fire rapidly, and after a short but furious fight things went deathly quiet.

Luke handed Lucky the gun and grabbed the handles to the chair once again before pushing his son out into the parking lot. Nikolas followed at a slightly slower pace, trying unsuccessfully to avoid looking at the dead bodies lying in their own blood on the pavement.

When they finally made it to the car Nikolas didn't even protest when Luke got in the driver's side and turned the ignition. He barely even registered the fact that they'd left Lucky's chair in the middle of the lot as they rushed out of the lot.

* * *

Dr. Damien Malus rewound the DVD to watch Lucky leave the building one more time. He'd been talking to the doctor when the alarm had been raised that Luke Spencer had found the building. He'd run to his office to give Luke the token resistance expected, only to find that Lucky had already made it halfway out, without his father. He couldn't figure out why Lucky had done that, though he was more than slightly impressed the kid had managed it, he really hadn't thought anyone would be able to breach his security that easily. Lucky knew it was just a matter of time before he went back to Port Charles. Damien himself had informed the kid of those plans.

As he watched Lucky help Nikolas carry an unresponsive Jeremy into the elevator he wondered if Lucky had somehow found out about the shoot to kill order that was in place. It would have made the escape that much more realistic if one of Lucky's 'rescuers' had died in the process. He knew that Lucky felt most of the world was expendable, but he would have never condoned the slaughter of someone he truly cared about, no matter the circumstances.

A blinking light on his console brought him out of his musings and he pushed a button just below the light. It took a second for the image on his monitor to focus, showing Luke Spencer entering his office, a sleeping Lucky wheeled carefully in front of him. It was kind of a relief to see Lucky hadn't gone to Wyndemere. The dwelling was huge, and he'd been unable to get more than the smallest amount of surveillance in place.

Luke picked Lucky up out of the chair and carefully laid him on the couch before gently brushing hair out of his sleeping son's face. Malus pushed down a surge of jealousy as he watched Lucky lean into his father's touch. This was necessary, he reminded himself. Lucky needed a few years on his own to grow into the man he was destined to become. When Lucky came back, he would be ready to take the reigns of DM Enterprises. There was not doubt about it now; he'd chosen the perfect heir.


	12. Chapter 12

**Section Twelve**

Luke chewed on his cigar angrily trying to pretend like he was focused on the computer screen in front of him instead of watching Lucky out of the corner of his eye. He thought he'd prepared himself for the prospect of Lucky being in a wheelchair, but when finally faced with the reality of it he found it a lot harder to accept than he'd anticipated.

Lucky still hadn't told him what had happened to put him in the chair, other than a vague comment leading him to believe Ceasar Fasion was responsible. Luke clenched his teeth in fury, nearly severing the already abused cigar in two. He couldn't help but focus all his anger on the dead villain. What he wouldn't give to have someone to go after right now, someone with a face and a name that he could crush underfoot like a particularly disgusting bug. The fact that Lucky refused to tell anyone what had been happening to him and who'd he'd been staying with all these years just intensified the fury. The few people who knew what was going on agreed it would be best to let him come to terms with it in his own time, and not try to force the story out of him, but it was getting harder and harder to wait.

Jeremy knew some of it; certainly a hell of a lot more than he was saying. Police Commissioner Scorpio had come to Luke several times asking if he could get the kid to talk, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to face Jeremy yet. He felt a twinge of guilt when he realized he might not ever be able to. Every time he saw Jeremy all he could think of was that he looked too much like Lucky, but then Jeremy would do something, say something, or make some sort of gesture with his hands and suddenly he didn't look _enough_ like Lucky and Luke would bolt before the kid could acknowledge his presence.

Luke found himself watching Lucky again, sitting in the ever present wheelchair, calmly leafing through papers. The kid had started looking for a job almost as soon as he'd entered Port Charles. He kept saying he needed a place of his own, a way of convincing himself he could be self sufficient. And Luke understood that, he did. It's just that he couldn't shake the feeling Lucky was using it as an excuse to avoid dealing with what had happened to him. It didn't help that most of those job applications were out of town, many of them out of state. Apparently Nikolas thought so too, going so far as to offer Lucky the guest house on Wyndemere Island.

It was a generous offer, made out of a desire to help his brother, but Luke couldn't help be satisfied when Lucky had turned it down. Especially when the kid had pointed out that being dependant on a boat for transportation when you were in a wheelchair was hardly practical. Luke had practically crowed at the look of dismay on the Cassadine brat's face. It seemed the young prince had forgotten that he and Lucky hadn't been very close before the fire, and the brother he'd gotten to know was just a brainwashed facsimile. It might be a little mean spirited of him to delight in that knowledge, but it helped him greatly whenever he ended up in a fight with Lucky.

Not that it could really be classified as fighting. The kid was just good at pushing his buttons and seemed to delight in doing just that. Small little digs about the club, or some quiet comment on the way Luke was drinking, but by far the most painful point had been when Lucky asked him if Lesley Lu could still recognize her father. Luke would get to the point of exploding, expanding out his chest in preparation of a good long shout and then he would get a good look at Lucky in the wheelchair, looking up at him through disorderly bangs and all the air would escape in one long defeated sigh, and they'd spend the rest of the night in silence. Lucky mailing résumé's while Luke pretended to focus on his books.

Luke was certain his boy was hurting. He _knew_ the kid needed him, needed to talk it out, needed to face whatever it was he was hiding from but every conversation he started always ended the same way. Luke finally gave up pretending that he was focused on the computer and turned toward his son, a spreadsheet that Lucky had designed at the ripe old age of fifteen blinking, forgotten on the screen. Luke stared at Lucky for a long while before the kid finally put the papers down with a sigh and acknowledged him.

"What?" Lucky said his voice artificially calm and soft.

Luke shook his head, "I'm just wondering why you won't talk to me."

"I am talking to you." Lucky said turning back to his papers.

"That," Luke said slowly, trying to figure out how to handle this new aspect of his son's personality, "Is not talking to me. That is barely responding."

Lucky glanced up, defiance suddenly alight in his eyes and Luke blinked, surprised. Was this how to handle the kid? Treat him like a sulky teenager?

"And what would _you_ know about how _I_ talk to people?" Lucky said maliciously, turning to give Luke his full attention.

Luke stood up; trying to pretend like the comment hadn't hurt. "I know you a lot better than you think I do boy."

Lucky narrowed his eyes, and Luke braced himself for what he knew would be coming. "If you knew me so well," Lucky said wheeling his chair over to his father, "we would have had this conversation years ago."

Luke's gut churned at those words and he sat back down abruptly, bringing himself eye level with Lucky. The change in position changed his perspective of his son. No longer did he see his baby boy, confused and hurting, looking up at him from a wheelchair, but a very angry young man that needed to fight this out before he would be able to let go.

"So that's it," Luke said, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice and mostly succeeding, "you're angry with me."

"Of course I'm angry with you!" Lucky said, exploding in a sudden burst of sound.

After the last two weeks of silence those words were enough to finally release all the emotion Luke had been holding back for fear of doing more damage to his son.

"Why!?" Luke demanded, standing up and striding to the other end of the room in an effort to release some of his pent up energy. "What did I do to you that was so bad!"

Lucky scoffed overturning the chair Luke had been sitting on just a few seconds earlier with one angry swipe of his arm.

"Because you didn't figure it out!" Lucky yelled, stopping Luke in his tracks. "You didn't figure out that Jeremy wasn't me! You know, Nikolas I understand," Lucky continued angrily, "he and I were on speaking terms for barely three months before the fire. And Lesley Lu was so young, and mom. . ." Lucky exhaled sharply and turned his head away trying unsuccessfully to hide the tears that had suddenly welled up in his eyes, "Well, mom always did have a way of skewing reality to make it fit whatever she wanted it to be. But you. . ." Lucky turned back to Luke with an accusing glare, his voice getting louder with every word. "You were real. You knew me so well. You knew every trick I tried to pull; you knew when I was lying, when I was telling the truth. You knew what I was thinking or feeling, sometimes before _I_ did. _YOU_ of _ALL_ people should have FIGURED IT OUT!"

By the time Lucky was finished with his tirade he was breathing heavily and the tears that been threatening to fall spilled onto his flushed cheeks. "You should have figured it out." He finished quietly and dropped his eyes to the floor as if ashamed of his outburst.

Luke swallowed hard and dropped to the floor awkwardly. His face felt hot, and he could feel tears running down his cheeks. He had expected this. He had been telling himself the same thing almost from the moment he'd found that damned DVD and learned what had really happened. There was no fixing this, because Lucky was right, he should have known. He couldn't help but feel like he _had_ known, and had willfully pushed the knowledge out of his mind.

"You're right," Luke said, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. "You're right, I should have known, and you have every reason to be mad at me."

Luke was so intent on his misery that he didn't hear Lucky move toward him and was startled by the gentle hand that touched his shoulder. He turned his head to see Lucky pull himself out of his wheelchair and arrange himself on the floor next to him.

"No, I don't." Lucky said quietly, his voice breaking with emotion. "I don't have any reason to be mad at you, and it kills me that I still am."

Luke blinked back his tears and looked over at his son in confusion.

"I've had a lot of time to think about it," Lucky continued, dropping his hand from Luke's shoulder and Luke couldn't help but stare at it as it fell. "I know why you did it."

Luke glanced up at his son's face, entranced by the expression there, the mixture of pain and love was unmistakable, it was the same one he'd given Lesley Lu the day he'd gone to visit her in Switzerland all those years ago, and she hadn't recognized him at first. It was enough to make him cry.

"Maybe you can help me out with this one Cowboy." Luke said leaning up against the wall, "Because I sure don't."

Lucky smiled sadly, still staring at his hands, "It's because you love me."

There was enough of a pause there that Luke felt compelled to reassure him, "Of course I love you. I love you so much that it hurts."

Lucky's smile didn't fade but tears had begun to well up in his eyes again. "I never doubted that." He said his voice low from emotion. "There were days when I doubted whether the sun would rise in the East, but I never doubted your love for me." Lucky paused and took a deep breath. "And it's that love that allowed you to accept Jeremy in my place isn't it?" He continued, "You thought I was dead for a long time, and then you were suddenly presented with the possibility that I wasn't only alive, but I was alive and here with you. You wanted to believe it so badly that you just. . ." Lucky paused, as if searching for the right words "overlooked all the little things that told you he wasn't me." Lucky's gaze hadn't shifted, nor had he blinked, but the tears that had been welling up in his eyes spilled over, streaming down his face. "You did see them didn't you?" He asked his voice suddenly high and unsure.

Luke exhaled and put a careful arm around Lucky's shoulders, "Yeah, I saw them."

Lucky's body relaxed at those words and he leaned into his father's embrace. Luke tightened his grip.

"Congratulations," Luke said into Lucky's hair.

"For what?" Lucky asked after a short pause.

"You can still get into my head." Luke said smiling sadly at the still overturned chair in the middle of the room.

Lucky's shoulders shifted as he puffed out a breath of air with a small noise that Luke chose to interpret as a laugh.

"Yeah, well," he said laying his head down on Luke's shoulder. "These days, it's easier than being in mine."

"I know the feeling," Luke said, closing his eyes and shifting his body so it was under Lucky's a little more.

"You always do." Lucky said quietly into his father's shoulder. "You always do."

Luke didn't say anything in response, he just kept his eyes closed and squeezed even tighter, tears falling unnoticed into his son's hair. Lucky was so much like him in so many ways, and yet he was so different in so many others that it scared him. It was going to kill him to let the kid go this time.


	13. Chapter 13

**Epilogue**

Sonny paused outside the door to Luke's office, struck by a sudden and uncharacteristic fit of nerves. The club was eerily quiet, 'closed for inventory' the sign above the door said, but Sonny knew it was just an excuse. It didn't take two weeks to finish inventory. Taking a deep breath Sonny resolutely opened the door and walked in the room.

At first he thought the room was as empty as the rest of the club, but a small sound to his right made him turn to see Lucky wheeling his chair into the room from a side door. It took him a moment to absorb the sight before he finally spoke.

"Hello Lucky." He said.

Lucky glanced up from the papers on his lap and nodded slightly.

"I knew Luke was up to something." Sonny continued when it became apparent that was all the response he was going to get.

"And yet," Lucky said, wheeling himself over to the desk bending to pull some papers out of a drawer, "here you are. Weeks after the fact, just now figuring it out."

The words were said without malice and Sonny shrugged, conceding the point. It had taken him two days to get up the nerve to come here and verify the story for himself. Still, he had a lot more information than the majority of Port Charles. As far as he knew, the only person Jeremy had told the story to was, Mac Scorpio, and then he'd quietly gotten his employment record changed to reflect his real name.

Lucky hadn't been seen at all in town, and it was only through his relationship to Bobby that he had been able to confirm that Lucky had indeed been spending time with his family. Though, rumor had it he still spent most of his time with Jeremy, who was as close to family as Lucky was likely to get, if only because of shared experience.

The majority of Port Charles didn't know the story yet, though he had no doubt it was just a matter of time before the press got a hold of it and then the Spencer family would be thrust into the spot light once again. Luke liked to say his frequent excursions to parts unknown were because of a reckless need for adventure, but Sonny suspected it was more a way of hiding from his own notoriety.

"I've heard you're leaving town." Sonny said, watching Lucky shuffle papers from his lap into the pile already on the desk.

"Yeah," Lucky confirmed, "There are too many memories here." Lucky paused and finally lifted his head to look Sonny in the eye, "Not all of them my own."

Sonny nodded in understanding. Jeremy had changed people's perception of Lucky, and this was bound to be a hard one to recover from.

"You sure you don't want to stick around?" Sonny asked, "At least long enough for them to weather the storm."

Lucky shook his head, "No, I don't want to be here when this hits the fan."

"Are you sure about that?" Sonny asked, knowing perfectly well he was pressing his luck a little bit. "Your family is going to want you around."

Lucky sighed, running his hand through his hair and Sonny was suddenly struck by an image of Lucky when he was 12 years old, begging him to watch his dog.

"I won't be far away," Lucky said, breaking the illusion. "I can come back when they need me, or they can come see me. Nikolas has promised he'll let me use his jet. . ." Lucky trailed off and lowered his head, allowing the curtain of overly long hair to hide his face. Sonny suddenly realized it was as hard for Lucky to leave as it would be for his family to watch him go.

"I just. . ." Lucky said after a moment, "I just can't stay here, Sonny. Too many people expect me to be something I'm not."

"I know," Sonny said quietly, turning toward the door. He'd done what he'd come here to do, there was no reason to stay . . . except. . . Sonny turned back to Lucky who was staring blankly at the cluttered desk.

"If you need anything," Sonny said, "and I mean _anything_ . . . Let me know would ya?"

Lucky looked up and gave him a heartbreakingly sad smile. "I'll try." Lucky said honestly and from the look in his eyes Sonny knew for a fact the young boy he'd met so many years ago had been irrevocably changed. It was with that sad thought he left the room, wishing there was something he could do to help Lucky and knowing there wasn't.

THE END

I have a very vague idea for a sequel to this, but I have moved on to writing some original fiction, so chances are, unless inspiration suddenly strikes, it will never get written.


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